


Kept In Your Pumpkin Shell

by redeyedwrath



Series: Sterek Week 2016 [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Halloween, M/M, Pumpkin carving, Sterek Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 05:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8433748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redeyedwrath/pseuds/redeyedwrath
Summary: "Stiles didn’t even know there was something like a ‘pumpkin carving class’."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yooo, so this is my last entry for the Sterek Week! I hope y'all enjoy it ^^ I didn't wanna do something extremely cliché so I hope I succeeded :p

Stiles hates Scott. Not even because he’s abandoned their most recent Bro Night in favor of hanging out with Allison - it’s almost like they haven’t been married for three years, Christ - but mostly because he decided Stiles’ pumpkin carving skills were inadequate and signed him up for _classes_.

Stiles didn’t even know there was something like a ‘pumpkin carving class’.

And on top of that, Scott had blackmailed him into going be saying that his carved pumpkins would make Lily cry and if Stiles is anything, it’s a sucker for his godchild.

He enters the improvised classroom feeling like these are gonna be the worst sixty minutes of his life. That turns around once he looks who’s actually sitting there and his eyes land on the hottest person to ever exist _ever_.

He quickly sits down next to the guy before anyone else can - he saw a mom eyeing up the seat next to Hot Guy too, but like hell he’s gonna waste this opportunity.

“You got roped into this too, huh?” he asks the guy. The guy raises an eyebrow, before sighing and nodding. “Yeah same. Wife?”

The guy shakes his head. “Sister.”

“Ah, I feel you dude. My best friend blackmailed me into going.”

The guy huffs, but he extends his hand anyways. “I’m Derek. Derek Hale.”

“Stiles Stilinski!” Stiles says, maybe a little too hard, because one of the moms turns around to glare at him. Whatever. The hottest dude ever just shook his hand, sue him for being excited about it.

He swallows. If Derek’s hands are any indication, his pumpkin carving skills will be phenomenal.

-

Stiles takes what he thought back. Derek’s pumpkin looks _awful_. For all that he has pretty hands - really pretty hands, _holy shit_ \- his fingers are too blunt to handle the gouges properly. Stiles doesn’t know what Derek went for - probably a bat or something like that - but it looks more like a lopsided bunny.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Derek sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? No!” Stiles rushes to say, hoping his face isn’t red. “It’s not awful, it’s just a little - a little artistic?”

Derek shoots him a flat look like he doesn’t believe what Stiles is saying, and to be fair he shouldn’t. It’s complete bullshit.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, mine isn’t better.”

Stiles turns his pumpkin around, heart pounding in his throat, because if _Derek’s_ pumpkin looks like a lopsided bunny, he has no idea what his looks like. Other than a complete disaster, of course.

Derek snorts when he sees Stiles’ horrific creation and Stiles narrows his eyes at him. Derek’s reaction is justified, but that still doesn’t make it any less embarrassing.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he mutters. “ _I’m_ the one covered in bits of pumpkin, you should be going easy on me.”

He’s not even lying; he thinks his plaid shirt might be permanently stained. There’s orange _everywhere_ when Stiles looks down. He’s eighty percent sure there’s pumpkin in his hair and he doesn’t know even know how it got there, just that it’s stuck.

“About that,” Derek suddenly says, voice soft. Stiles glances up sharply. “How far away are you from here?”

“Uh, about fifteen minutes?”

It’s actually just two blocks, but if Derek’s offering what Stiles _thinks_ he’s offering, well. He’s not going to pass up that opportunity.

“You could come back to mine if you wanted to? Just freshen up a bit, maybe eat some pizza with me?”

“Sounds great,” he says, and when did his voice get so rough? Derek blushes - actually _blushes_ \- and looks down at his shoes, twiddles with his thumbs. Stiles swallows and tries to pretend he’s not squealing on the inside.

“Good,” Derek mumbles, glancing up. Stiles smiles; he hasn’t agreed more with anything in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I hope you all enjoyed this semi-daily fic posting, now we'll go back to your regularly scheduled fic posting of once/twice a week
> 
> [Yo I have a Tumblr where I crosspost everything!](http://demisexualhale.tumblr.com)


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